


suck it and see

by brudick (akeshu)



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, New 52, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Tim and Damian show up for like 2 minutes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 20:46:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7376776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akeshu/pseuds/brudick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They should really be at the gala right now, but Dick and Bruce get a little busy in the batcave.</p><p>Shameless smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	suck it and see

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the first few pages of Batman (New 52) #1.
> 
> This is basically just porn I placed in between a scene from the comics. You don't have to read the issue to follow it.
> 
> The title is a horrible pun, but I had to.

Maybe it's something in the air — lingering tension, perhaps, or maybe it's just because the two have been away from each other for days, though only a few, at most. They should be used to distance, really, considering their alter egos are bounded to their own cities — Batman to Gotham, and Nightwing to Blüdhaven. So it's not much of a surprise when the two go days, occasionally weeks, without seeing each other, but something about tonight is unlike the other nights.

“We should go,” Bruce says, fixing the cuffs of his suit.

If he can just avoid _this_ — this inevitable situation — just until the event is over, he'll thank every God out there. Because although he wants this now, and he means _right now_ , he'd never stop hearing it from Alfred if Bruce Wayne is late to his own party.

But Dick looks so good in the suit and _God_ , Bruce just wants to tear it right off, wants to claim his lips, _wants to touch him_. But he can't. Not yet. Not right now.

By now Dick is staring at Bruce with a lopsided grin and he knows that look way too well to not know what Dick is asking for. But he decides to ignore it for both of their sakes, and instead goes for, “What?”

Like he doesn't already know.

And then Dick is closing the small distance between the two, and he stands right in front of Bruce, inches away, and Bruce wants him closer, so much closer that he feels like he's suffocating. He holds his breath until he has to breathe again because it's all too overwhelming in every way it really shouldn't be.

Dick reaches across the space between them and slides his hands down Bruce’s chest, fingers fiddling with his bowtie once reaching their destination. He’s licking his lips, eyes swimming over the black bowtie before moving up to meet Bruce’s. “Think we can spare some time?” he whispers, voice soft and way too melodious than what should be deemed appropriate. His fingers slide up from Bruce’s bowtie to his throat, and the digits extend across his skin, leaving touches light as a feather. “Please?”

And Bruce feels like he’s losing his breath again because he’s never seen anything nearly as beautiful as this. Nothing compares to the sight of Dick pleading for a kiss — nothing compares to Dick in general, and Bruce thinks, _God, I’m head over heels for this kid._

Dick is the embodiment of sin — tempting, seductive, fascinatingly intoxicating, and Bruce hates it just as much as he loves it.

“Dick, no,” Bruce responds, interrupting himself from his own thoughts — _reminding himself to get a grip of reality._

Bruce nearly flinches when Dick's hands slither up to his cheeks, fingers brushing over his clean shaven face as he stands on the tip of his toes. Dick’s face is mere centimeters away from Bruce’s, close enough for Bruce to feel the warmth of his breath on his lips when he whispers, “Please?” And then he’s tilting his head, angling his lips perfectly but not pushing forward — almost as if he’s waiting for permission, and it all but drives Bruce insane.

And Bruce sighs because it's all over. Every inch of self control that he's built up has dropped itself down the drain. With one hand, he's gripping one of Dick's wrists, and with the other he's holding his jaw in place as he leans forward to capture his lips. And when their lips finally touch, Bruce half nearly _melts_ into it. He pulls back — and refrains a smirk when Dick chases his lips — to mumble, “God, you’re so _needy_ ,” before diving in for another kiss, muffling the whimper that Dick emits.

Bruce lets go of Dick and slides his hands down Dick’s back to cup his ass, giving the soft, round cheeks a squeeze. The touch sends a shudder down Dick’s spine, and, instinctively, he pushes back into Bruce’s hands, allowing the slightest moan to escape his lips. Dick tangles his fingers into Bruce’s hair, and, gripping the dark strands, he tilts Bruce’s face into the right angle as their lips move in perfect sync.

It's all tongue and teeth; rough, but sloppy and wet — _filthy_ — and it makes Dick weak in the knees, makes him _moan_ as Bruce fondles his ass, kneads the muscles just right, and it takes Dick all he has not to just rut shamelessly against Bruce. It feels good enough for Dick to forget what breathing is, and he deems it as a second priority until Bruce, who seems to still have some brain cells left, pulls back to give the two the oxygen they need. Dick breathes heavily, sees the slight darkness in his vision fade as he catches his breath.

“We don't have much time,” Bruce says, voice almost a whisper. 

And maybe Bruce hasn't planned any more than lip locking because he looks a little shocked when Dick drops down to his knees.

Dick is already fumbling with Bruce's slacks, and Bruce has his fingers tangled into Dick's hair loosely, stroking, occasionally stopping to move a strand out of his face. He's looking down at Dick and Dick's staring right back with a goofy smile too innocent for the current situation. The sight is awfully mesmerizing, much too beautiful, and Bruce can't help but get a little lost in blue pair of eyes beneath him — eyes almost identical to his own, yet not quite.

“Dick,” he breathes, voice soft and almost husky. He moves a hand down to Dick's cheek and immediately feels a smile tug at his lips when Dick leans into the touch like he _needs_ it. “Dick.”

Bruce wants to tell him there's not enough time, that they should be at the party right now instead of fooling around down here, but he _can't_. He has not a care about the event at the moment, has not a care about the scolding he'd receive from Alfred later because with Dick like this, down on his knees, begging with his eyes, he can't think about anything else.

Dick is already pulling Bruce's trousers down, and, for about half a second, Bruce actually decides that they should probably move to a more _private_ location. Because sucking cock in Batman's man-cave isn't exactly the ideal date — although it has been one of Dick's biggest fantasies since his teen years.

But all the possible rationalities slip out of Bruce's mind as soon as Dick wraps his pretty little lips around his cock. And then it just comes to control and focusing on refraining from grabbing Dick's face and brutally fucking his mouth, because as tempting as that is, the last thing he wants to do is hurt Dick.

Dick starts with the tip of Bruce's cock, wraps his mouth around it and sucks hard before he pulls back to run his tongue down the underside. He swirls his tongue around — uses his tongue in a way that Bruce can only describe as _terrifyingly amazing_ — before taking Bruce’s cock into his mouth. And Bruce has got his fingers tangled so deep in Dick’s dark locks of hair, tugging when Dick sucks him a certain way, all the while he throws his head back and emits the slightest groans.

Dick’s hands slide up Bruce’s body, slithering underneath his suit, feeling for all the skin he can access. Bruce’s eyes flutter closed and he lets out a content sigh at the warm feeling of his lover’s palms on his stomach. “You’re doing so good,” he whispers fondly, gently running his fingers through Dick’s hair. “So good.” And Dick moans around Bruce’s cock at the praise, scrapes his fingernails against Bruce’s skin because there’s nothing he craves more than a genuine compliment — _approval_. He needs Bruce’s approval like he needs oxygen to breathe, needs it just as much as he needs Bruce’s hands on him — _maybe even more._

Dick locks his eyes with Bruce’s, watches him as he pulls off and pushes his face forward, fucking his mouth with Bruce’s cock and moaning around it quite shamelessly. It almost drives Bruce insane, nearly pushes him over the edge of control, and it’s enough to cause his fingers to tremble against Dick’s hair. His breath comes out ragged, heavy and erratic, as Dick continues to work his mouth around his arousal.

And then he stops, Bruce still wholly inside of his mouth, and he moves his hands behind to feel the muscle of Bruce’s backside before reeling him in, _wanting_ Bruce to fuck his mouth. Bruce gets the signal immediately, and it causes the breath in his throat to catch, always captivated by the sight. He loosens his grip on Dick's hair and slides his hands down to Dick's face, fingers tracing over the soft, smooth skin beneath his fingertips. 

Bruce pulls out of Dick's mouth, shudders as he feels Dick dig his fingernails into the back of his thighs, and then thrusts back into his mouth, slow, but deep. And Dick _moans_ ; lets out a pleased cry as he feels Bruce bury himself deep in his throat, the feeling provoking him to painfully claw into Bruce's bare skin.

“Gorgeous,” Bruce breathes, watching Dick like it's the last time he'll see him on his knees. “God, you're beautiful.” Bruce moves a hand up to Dick's hair again, entangles his fingers into Dick's locks and tugs slightly as he quite gently fucks into his mouth. 

Dick's moans around Bruce's cock turn into vibrations, causes Bruce to let out a groan of his own as he quickens his pace just barely. He's still too gentle, too careful, with Dick, which earns him a glare from the boy. Dick's clawing at the side of Bruce's thighs painfully so, and Bruce almost smirks, knowing exactly what it means.

“You're such a cockslut,” he whispers, caressing Dick's face with the hand that already lays on his cheek. “It's cute.” His lips quirk up into a faint smirk as he rubs his thumb over Dick's cheekbone, eyes searching the pair below him rather thoroughly.

Dick rolls his eyes and digs his nails further into the pale skin, which earns him a pained grunt from the older man. He pulls off and smirks smugly, eyes glinting up at Bruce. And then, licking his lips, Dick wraps a hand around Bruce's cock and starts to stroke him unnecessarily slow, eyes still locked with the man's.

Dick slides his tongue down Bruce's cock, lapping around the underside with leisure — _teasing_ — before blowing air against the skin, pulling an uncharacteristic whimper out of Bruce. Bruce fists the hair beneath his palm, knees buckling as Dick takes his precious time licking and breathing against Bruce's groin, which, after a while, can become _very_ frustrating.

“Goddammit,” Bruce murmurs under his breath, knowing full well that he's lost the game. His eyes want to flutter closed, but he doesn't dare to, feeling the need to watch Dick every second of this time together. 

Dick pulls back, licks his lips again, as the previous smirk reappears on his face. “Time is running out, Bruce,” he mumbles, squeezing Bruce at the base of his cock.

Bruce lets out a breathy gasp, fingers once again tightening around Dick’s locks, before letting out a breathless chuckle. “You’re something else,” he quietly says, a smile full of fondness tugging at his lips.

They’re late — very, very, _very_ late — to the gala, and Bruce is surprised Alfred has yet to come to check on them. Or maybe he had, but the two were far too absorbed in each other to notice. _Hopefully not_ , Bruce grimaces.

Bruce will make sure to brood over this another time, curse himself for giving into Dick’s antics, like he always does, and for the scolding he’s about to receive in the terribly, _terribly_ near future.

But for the time being, Bruce can’t bother to care about those things. He only cares about what’s in front of him, Dick on his knees, looking wantonly up at him.

He moves the hand on Dick’s face down to his lips, slides his thumb over the slightly-red petals before inserting it into Dick’s mouth. Dick automatically opens his mouth and Bruce pulls his finger away to replace it with his cock. Dick takes it almost eagerly, fingers already finding their way to Bruce’s hips, nails digging into the side of the tux. He’s looking up at Bruce like he’s begging with his eyes, and Bruce merely smiles. “So needy,” he whispers fondly.

Bruce reaches out and carefully holds the sides of Dick’s head as he begins to pull out and thrust into Dick’s mouth. He starts out slow, but then quickens his pace, pushing harder and deeper into Dick’s throat, knowing that’s just what the younger male wants. Dick’s grip on Bruce’s hips tightens, moans coming out as broken vibrations as Bruce roughly fucks his mouth.

And then Bruce stops and pushes his cock deep down Dick’s throat until he can’t anymore, lets out a low growl at the wet, warm sensation. And Dick almost can’t breathe, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t need to breathe when he has Bruce buried this deep in his throat. But Bruce pulls back, allows Dick to suck in a whiff of oxygen before he pushes himself back in again, and Dick _cries_. Tears prick at the corner of Dick’s eyes and he absolutely _loves_ it — _loves every moment of this._

And then Bruce pulls back again and Dick gasps, taking in all the air he’s lacking, and he manages to say, “Yes, yes, _yes_ ,” before Bruce is back in his throat. Bruce repeats this a few times before he goes back to fucking Dick’s mouth, jerking his hips in quick motions, and letting out the softest of moans when he feels Dick vibrate around him.

And then he’s thrusting his hips uncontrollably, and Dick’s _sobbing_ , gasping for air in between and gripping at Bruce’s hips while his mouth is thoroughly _fucked_ , and, _God_ , he’s never been so satisfied in his life.

A few more thrusts and Bruce is cumming, balls-deep in Dick’s mouth. Dick’s eyes flutter closed as he feels the heat slide down his throat, and he swallows every drop of it, almost choking in the process. And then Bruce pulls out, leaving Dick to hurriedly catch his breath. Bruce reaches for Dick, pulls him up on to his feet and kisses his forehead gently, whispering something along the lines of _love you_ but Dick can’t make it out with the pounding in his ears.

Bruce reaches down to palm Dick through his pants but Dick grabs his wrist, stopping him. “I’ll manage,” he says, smiling a bit. “We’re already late and it’s my fault. But I’ll be getting you tonight.” He smirks, straightening up Bruce’s tuxedo jacket.

Before Bruce can respond, however, Dick stands on his tippy toes and plants chaste a kiss on the man’s lips. “Just give me a minute and I’ll be ready to head up.” He pats Bruce’s chest and takes a step back to let Bruce pick up the bottom half of his clothes.

Dick takes a moment to fix his hair and smooth out his suit as he desperately tries to will away his erection. Dead kittens usually work. _Or the Joker_ , Dick thinks, grimacing. 

By the time they head up, Dick has successfully willed away his arousal, fortunately, yet very unfortunately, thanks to the image of Joker. _And speaking of the Joker_ , Dick thinks. “For what it’s worth, how’d I do as him?” he asks Bruce, fingering his bowtie.

“Are you asking me if you were convincing as a homicidal maniac, Dick?” Bruce asks, amused.

“I suppose I am.”

“Then yes, as a matter of fact, you were.”

Dick lights up at the simple praise.

“Score one for Alfred’s school of acting. Still, I can’t believe you left me in there an extra day,” Dick points out, a hint of amusement dripping from his voice.

“I needed to be sure it was Matthews,” Bruce says. “Besides, with all you’ve been shouldering lately, I figured you could use the day off.” By now, Bruce has the slightest smirk tugging at his lips.

“A day off. In Arkham,” Dick muses in disbelief. “Only you, Bruce. Only you.”

And then they’re leaving the cave, and on the other side waits Tim and Damian, both dressed in their suits.

“Finally,” Damian whines, looking displeased.

And Dick almost wants to laugh, but he refrains and settles for a small smirk. They’re late, but it was so worth it.


End file.
